


NYE:VRAI

by saintsaint



Category: HLVRAI - Fandom, Half-Life VR but the AI is Self-Aware - Fandom
Genre: First Kiss, Fluff, Glitter, M/M, New Year’s Eve, background Bubby/Coomer - Freeform, background tommy/darnold, once again i let things get out of hand
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-07
Updated: 2021-01-07
Packaged: 2021-03-17 23:46:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28608507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saintsaint/pseuds/saintsaint
Summary: It’s the first New Year’s Eve after the Resonance Cascade. Benrey and Gordon talk about traditions and resolutions.
Relationships: Benrey/Gordon Freeman
Comments: 52
Kudos: 160





	NYE:VRAI

**Author's Note:**

> on NYE i sat myself down on a couch and said “yeah i could write a lil frenrey kiss as a treat. like 750 words max, no problem” [i am reaching through the timeline and grabbing past!me’s shoulders and shaking them bc](https://64.media.tumblr.com/8dcf726ffc265988d6aa6ae18b99d8fe/899f811e710b6d56-1d/s500x750/5af1853f35dc161856464bc0f62a9096327af4f2.png) “YOU THOUGHT?? YOU REALLY THOUGHT???”  
> not looked over like at all bc WOW what a FUCKIN day, i just wanted to put some happiness out there and this is what i’ve got!  
> See end notes for content warnings.

Benrey has long-since accepted that he ruined his chances of ever getting together with Gordon. The teasing, the arm thing, the whole Big Bad Boss Fight — apparently none of it had come across as flirting, and in fact had instead irrevocably destroyed any potential romantic future between them. Go figure.

Point is, Benrey knows there’s no making up for what he did, and he’s at peace with it. He’ll just let his crush on the guy smolder itself out, which it definitely will. Sure, it’s been more than nine months since the ResCas (and some eight months since Benrey regenned (...and only six months since Gordon started talking to Benrey again)), and in all that time his crush has burned strong. But at some point it’s gotta go out, right? All he’s gotta do is wait.

“Wanna kiss?”

Wait, and _stop adding fuel to the fire, dumbass._

Gordon tilts his head back, raising an eyebrow and grinning up at him, and Benrey’s idiot human heart flutters. He can’t stop himself from smirking back, flopping over the back of the couch and dangling his hands down. If he stretched a bit, he could reach out and trail his fingers along Gordon’s stomach. It looks soft, and he really, _really_ wants to, but he won’t. He couldn’t.

Instead he wiggles his fingers and his eyebrows in time and winks at Gordon as obviously and stupidly as he can. He’s rewarded by the guy’s wheezing laughter.

“Do — do you have to flirt with me so _badly_ , man?” Gordon leans his head back against the arm of the couch, raising one hand to run it lazily through his dark curls. There’s silver glitter in his hair, only getting worked in further as he tousles it with blunt fingers. Benrey wonders if Gordon even realizes it’s there.

“Who, uh. Who else am I ‘sposed to flirt badly with,” Benrey says, and jerks his chin at the mess surrounding them.

The living room does kinda look like a bomb went off, but that’s almost normal after a get-together with the NeoScience Team (Extended Edition). No, what Benrey’s referring to is the fact that every other person in his and Tommy’s little house is dead asleep.

The G-Man tapped out first. He managed a glass of champagne and half a scotch before settling into an intimidating-looking wingback armchair that Benrey knows wasn’t in his living room before tonight. He had then spent the rest of the party silently watching the chaos with too much obvious affection to be creepy. At some point he’d drifted off; Benrey had picked Joshua up so the kid could reach high enough to fix a sparkly party hat on the G-Man’s drooping head.

Joshua had come next, despite his protests that he wasn’t tired and wanted to stay up with everyone else — the little dude’s still a little dude, after all. Benrey knew Gordon wouldn’t have had the heart to send him to bed on time tonight himself, so Benrey’d done his best to tire the little guy out early with a ton of energy-burning games and excitement. It’d paid off: before nine came around, Josh was conked out on the couch snoring like a miniature foghorn. As he lifted his sleeping son to carry him into the guest room, Gordon had shot Benrey a strange, considering look that had set the fire within him writhing anxiously even as it felt as if his blood was fizzing like the single glass of champagne he’d tried that night.

Forzen himself had snuck two glasses before anyone remembered that he was underage, at which point it was too late — Sunkist had accompanied the weepy drunk to Benrey’s room and was still there, watching over him while he slept it off. Benrey might not like the twerpy, muscley bootboy (and he might _really_ not like having to give up his room for the night) but Sunkist had insisted and far be it from Benrey to argue with Sunkist’s huge teeth.

Meanwhile Dr. Coomer and Bubby had destroyed half the living room and set off three discrete glitter bombs (most of them “accidentally” aimed at Gordon) before cheerfully declaring that they were very sorry but they had to head out early so Bubby could get some actual rest in his makeshift tube at home. They had also burned through what was probably all the alcohol in the house via Coomer’s powerful cybertronic liver and Bubby’s ability to literally burn it up in his veins. Cool guys, but if Tommy’s employers weren’t so generous he and Benrey would never be able to afford to keep having them over.

And at last, speaking of Tommy, Benrey’s pretty sure he saw him sneak off with Darnold earlier. Benrey had subtly fist-pumped in fraternal victory. Good for them.

The point is: besides a snoozing G-Man in the corner, a whole lot of glitter, and several abandoned bottles of champagne, Benrey and Gordon are alone. The television isn’t even counting them down to midnight because Bubby found a katana and put it through the screen, so it’s just fuzzing and glitching in a steady beat that Benrey is kinda getting into. He drums his fingers against the couch.

“What — dude. No,” Gordon snickers, and Benrey’s focus zeroes back on him. He’d gotten distracted again, though it’s hard to see how when Gordon’s right there with warm eyes in the dim light, giggly and sleepy. The guy gets so fuckin’ _cute_ when he stays up too late. He doesn’t drink because of his meds but Benrey knows Gordon can get kinda loopy by this hour. “I _mean,_ why do you have to flirt with me so _badly._ Even Tommy could do it better.”

“Wh — _duh,_ Tommy could do it better. Idiotman,” Benrey says automatically, and Gordon loses his response around a sputter. Benrey steamrolls over what he would have said anyway because a bro has got to stick up for a bro. “Tommy’s got game. Ever heard of, uh, Casanovo? Tommy’s slick. Could get anyone into any bed anywhere. Tommy’s smooth as, uh…” He smacks his lips, ignoring Gordon’s continued wheezy disbelief. “Smooth as sharks.”

“Sharks aren’t — okay, you know what, we’re not having this argument again right now. And also, _what,_ no way Tommy’s good at flirting, he’s like — well—” Gordon suddenly looks a little doubtful, his eyebrows dipping and lips half-pursed. “...Wait a minute, am I being unfair? Tommy’s not good at flirting, is he?”

Gordon is so fucking stupid that Benrey almost feels bad for him. He scooches himself a little closer over the back of the couch, already savoring the face journey he knows Gordon’s about to go on, and proclaims with grave solemnity: “Bro, Tommy _fucks_.”

“Tommy _fucks_??” Gordon squawks, and the absolute _scandal_ on his face has Benrey bursting into laughter before he can stop himself. “No he doesn’t! Does he?? No, _no,_ you’re fucking with me, no _way_ Tommy fucks—”

Across the room, the G-Man grunts in his sleep and shifts.

Gordon whips a hand out to clutch at Benrey’s shoulder. Benrey nearly chokes, catching and holding his breath. Together, they go still and silent.

The G-Man’s head half-lifts for a moment, party hat glinting in the glitchy light coming from the broken television. He lets out an intimidating, sleepy snuffle… and then tilts his head back down again, fast asleep.

Gordon keeps a hold on Benrey’s shoulder as they both slowly relax. After nearly thirty whole seconds of the G-Man’s slow breathing, Gordon gives it a little shake; Benrey frowns. “Wha.”

“Are you fucking with me?” he hisses, serious and urgent. “Is Tommy really—?”

“Uh, yeah man. Pay attention, please?” Benrey whispers back. “Where do you think Darnold is.”

“What?” Gordon’s brow wrinkles. There’s a piece of glitter caught in the hairs of his left eyebrow; Benrey wants to reach out and brush it away with careful fingers. “What does that have to do with—” Then his eyebrows shoot up and his mouth makes a round little “o” of surprise that sets the hungry thing in Benrey’s chest flickering with heat. “Wait. _Wait._ Tommy and _Darnold?_ ”

Gordon’s lower lip is wet. Benrey bites his own. “...huh? Oh, uh — yeah.”

But Gordon’s released him to clutch at his own hair with both hands, eyes unfocused, jaw dropping. “Tommy and Dar— _Tommy?_ Darnold and — oh my god, ohhh my god. Tommy _fucks._ Tommy fucks? _Tommy_ fucks.” He drags a hand down to his mouth, eyes wide. When the fingers of that hand curl into his beard, Benrey notices that he’s left behind yet another piece of glitter on his lip, just off-center. Fuck. “How did I… How long have they…?”

“Like forever, brrrrrrrro,” Benrey says. He’s practically right above Gordon now, dragged there by the man’s panic, and it’s taking a lot of effort not to stare at that one tantalizing piece of glitter. He focuses instead on Gordon’s eyes — they’re gleaming in the low light, dark and distracting. “You don’t pay attention. Why you think I gotta flirt so _badly,_ man.”

“Why you — wait,” Gordon says. His gaze is still far away, but his face is doing that furrowing thing it does when he’s thinking hard, all pinched and pouty. Man, he sucks _so_ much. “What do you mean… _that’s_ why you have to flirt badly.”

“Cuz if it’s not bad and obvious then you won’t see it, duh,” Benrey says immediately, and then realizes that Gordon’s not looking off into the distance anymore. His eyes are sharp, awake, and very, _very_ focused — on Benrey himself. Old instincts suddenly roar to life (danger, _danger, danger!_ ), tempered with enough experience of being a human person to recognize that he may have just hugely misstepped.

“And you… _want_ me to see it? That you’re flirting with me,” Gordon says slowly, eyes narrowing, and it feels like Benrey’s heart stops because is he figuring it out? He _can’t_ figure it out; Benrey gets so little of Gordon as it is and he couldn’t stand to scare him away, not _again,_ and definitely not with some stupid failed flirting turned sort of inside joke. “Because you’re… you’re not just messing with me? Because you’re—”

“HUH?” Benrey says loudly, desperately. “WHAT? CAN’T. CAN’T, UH, HEAR YOU, MAN. MLEUH MLEUH — aw, _fuck_ —”

“ _SHHH,_ sh, _shut up_!” Gordon hisses, grabbing and _shaking_ the collar of Benrey’s shirt as the G-Man’s soft snores cut off and they both _freeze._

The G-Man’s eerie blue eyes are half-lidded as his head lifts with languid grace. In the distorted light from the glitching television, his face is cast in sharp shadows. Benrey can hear Gordon’s heartbeat pattering rapidly; he quickly reaches into his own genes to shut his own off because they have to be _quiet,_ Mr. Coolatta is mostly chill now but he’s been clear that Benrey’s on thin fucking ice and he does _not_ want to know what he might tell Tommy —

But, again, the G-Man’s head droops as sleep returns to him. After another long minute, Gordon lets out a slow breath. He releases Benrey’s shirt to clutch half-jokingly at his heart. One hand stays up to pat weakly at Benrey’s face; when his thumb thoughtlessly, absently rubs Benrey’s cheek, Benrey’s heart kickstarts back up of its own accord and the flame within him flares so hot he’s sure the burn is visible across his face.

“Okay, that was _way_ too fuckin’ close,” Gordon says, whispering once more. He lets out a quiet “ _hoooo_ ” of relief, eyes closed, and while Benrey wrestles with his own body to _calm down bro!_ he also takes the momentary reprieve to just… watch the guy. Gordon works too hard, worries too hard, doesn’t play enough; to see him here on the couch, loose-limbed and still covered in glitter despite an hour’s attempts at removing it, trusting Benrey to watch over him for even a moment, it’s…

Benrey doesn’t want to forget this, is all. He doesn’t want to mess this up. Not again.

Which is why when he realizes that Gordon’s eyes have silently opened and have been studying him right back, the flame within Benrey flickers and all the anxiety of a moment ago comes rushing back in.

“Hey, Benrey...? Listen,” Gordon says, voice hushed and almost even. He looks more thoughtful than worried, though there’s still a crease between his eyebrows that Benrey _really_ doesn’t like. “Have you, uh. So I just wanted to know if you were, were, um.” He grunts in exasperation, pressing a hand to his face, and Benrey’s own eyebrows dip. “Have, have you — uh — _actually_ been flirting with me? Because — don’t, _DON’T,_ ” Gordon hisses, jerking nearly vertical as Benrey inhales loudly and obnoxiously, his heart thundering panic-fast in his ears. “Okay, _okay okay okay,_ we don’t have to talk about the, the, the flirting thing, okay? I’m dropping it. I’m dropping it! It’s dropped.”

His hands are up defensively, his eyes wide with fear and maybe something else. Benrey slowly lets his mouth close as his heart pumps hot blood just below the surface of his skin. Cautiously, Gordon’s hands lower — but he’s still looking at him, somehow shrewd and soft and uncertain all at once, and Benrey has the sense that he’s still in some kind of danger. Gordon’s focus is hardly ever directed at him so completely, familiar suspicion and crinkle-cornered eyes and glitter and all; he looks attentive and intense, like he’s about to jump off some great precipice and is calculating whether the HEV suit will catch him or kill him.

In fact, Benrey’s about to throw caution to the wind and sweet voice him in calm-down blue when Gordon finally blinks, tilts his head and, with a strange quirk of the lips, says, “Huh!”

“Wha,” Benrey says, tense.

But Gordon only shrugs, perfectly casual out of nowhere, and reclines on the couch. “Nothin, nothin. So hey, this is your first New Year’s as, like, a human person, right?”

“... _Huh,_ ” Benrey replies, thrown. What? Glitter, G-Man, Gordon, goddamned dark eyes and now — what? “Uh. Yeah…?” Uncertain and suspicious, Benrey narrows his eyes at Gordon, who gazes back with total innocence (besides that keen, watchful glint). “Why.”

“No reason! Just, you know, there are some, uh, hm. Some… traditions, I guess? Like—”

“Like revolutions,” Benrey interrupts, a stolen human memory coming back to him with all the grace of a freight train. “End of the year shit. What you wanna do.” He drums his fingers against the couch, glances uncertainly at the man watching him so closely. “Uh. Right?”

“O-oh, well, I mean, yeah; New Year’s resolutions is a thing,” Gordon acknowledges. He tilts his head a little, lips curving into a smile, and the piece of glitter still stuck on his lower lip twinkles in the light. Benrey has to look away. “Like, last year I kinda wanted to start streaming, right? I actually did that one, which is kind of a miracle cuz I don’t always end up managing to follow, like, _any_ of my resolutions. And I spent more time with Joshie this year, and made new friends, and took care of some stuff I’d been, well… avoiding.” Out of the corner of his eye, Benrey sees Gordon’s smile turn wistful. “It was… definitely not the best year, but… yeah. Could’ve been worse.”

Benrey frowns, staring at the glitching television screen. The Resonance Cascade was earlier this year. Yeah, the hush money and time off gave Gordon the push he needed to get started streaming, and made it so he had more time for Josh, and introduced him to the members of the NeoScience Team (Extended Edition). But it also, like, _really_ fucked him up. It’s taken months for Gordon to even partially recover from all the messed up shit that went on in there… not least of which was Benrey.

A gentle tug on one of the strings of his chullo has Benrey blinking. He glances down to find that Gordon’s sat up a little, leaning against the arm of the couch, and has got his fingers loosely wrapped around one of the dangling puff balls of Benrey’s hat. His expression is concerned, maybe even apologetic. “Hey,” he says, voice even softer than before. “Don’t — It’s alright, bud. We don’t have to… Look, it’s, it’s gonna be a new year, right? Let’s think about that instead.” He breaks eye contact to rub at the puff ball with his thumb, almost like he’s nervous. “Like, uh. What do _you_ want the future to look like? What do you wanna do?”

“Uh,” Benrey says, watching Gordon play with the tail of his hat and feeling the embers within him burn. The glitter is still on Gordon’s lip, but the guy’s distracted by the fraying yarn so there’s no reason for Benrey to look away. “I want, uh… I wanna. Wanna.” Gordon’s eyes flicker to his and away; Benrey swallows down sudden sweet voice. “I. Wanna be. Not bad.”

Gordon stills. “...Benrey, you aren’t,” he says quietly. “You’re not bad.”

What. “Wha.”

Gordon snorts, muted but unmistakably fond, and reaches out. He wraps his fingers around the opposite chullo tail and gives it a gentle tug; the hat settles more evenly on Benrey’s head. “Well, I — I’ve seen you these past few months, man,” Gordon whispers, thumb and eyes on the new puff ball, like he's somehow anxious. “You, you’re still — obnoxious, and annoying, and a total freakshow, but… you _have_ been working hard. I mean, ha, even _I_ noticed. Like — you’re careful with everyone. You pay attention to what our friends need and do your best to help, even if it’s not always in, like, a normal way.” His mouth twists, amused, and Benrey’s gaze is drawn back to that stupid piece of glitter glinting merrily away. “You’ve helped me. You help Joshua, even.”

“G-Dad needed the. Party hat,” Benrey says, but he’s barely hearing the words coming out of his own mouth. Gordon huffs a laugh, eyes crinkling at the corners. He’s close enough that Benrey could count every single one of his eyelashes if he could just drag his gaze upwards.

“You know what I mean. I’m just saying — if you wanted to be, uh, ‘not bad,’ then… I think you’ve already got it covered, man.” He looks up at Benrey now, eyes uncertain but smile a little mischievous, like when he’s about to say something so dumb Benrey won’t be able to stop himself from saying something even dumber back. “I’m. Actually already working on my New Year’s Resolution, too.”

“Yeah?” Benrey says, mouth dry. The flame within him burns. “You, uh. You gonna get real good at. Makin’ spaghetti?”

“What?” Gordon wheezes softly and tugs at both strings of Benrey’s chullo, pulling him a little closer. “No. What? My spaghetti’s fine.”

“Uhhh,” Benrey says, and manages to drag his eyes away from Gordon’s lips long enough to squint at his eyes. Is he serious? “Nnnnnah man. Worst spaghetti I ever had.”

“No it wasn’t,” Gordon retorts immediately, but his eyebrows suddenly dip. “Wait, was it? Am I bad at cooking? Are you—? No, I, I’m pretty sure you’re — hey, hang on, I was trying to say something _important,_ stop distracting me—”

“Ouhhh, Feetman can’t stay focused?” A grin stretches across Benrey’s face, teasing and nervous and familiar where this situation feels so very _un_ familiar. “Lil baby gotta, gotta make a revolution to pay more attention better—”

“I _am_ actually,” Gordon says scowlingly, just a little too loud, but he checks his voice and tugs once more on Benrey’s hat, pulling him that much nearer. The glitter on Gordon’s lip trembles a bit but Benrey hardly notices, unable now to look away from Gordon’s intense, dark eyes. “And that _is_ one of them. That I want to, to be better at… _noticing_ things. Not just the Tommy thing, but. Maybe other things, too?”

Benrey’s mouth is suddenly very, very dry. He swallows, licks his lips — and watches Gordon watch him back with lidded eyes, tracking his movements. “Oh. Yeah?”

Gordon bites his lip softly, just a flash of white teeth. It’s not enough to dislodge the glitter. “Yeah. Like…” He tugs on the chullo once more. Their faces are nearly touching at this point, their warm breaths mingling in the scant inch between them. Benrey could swear the flame within him is hot enough for Gordon to feel it on his skin as he wraps both chullo strings in one hand, freeing the other to slide along Benrey’s jaw, cheek, the back of his neck, into his hair. “Like noticing something that’s been in front of me this whole time.”

“Like uh. Birds and shit?” Benrey says, incredibly stupidly.

“ _Oh_ my fuckin— _Benrey,_ ” Gordon growls, and Benrey catches his breath, brain a bonfire roar of white noise. “Shut. _Up._ ”

Before Benrey can get out a “yessir,” Gordon closes the distance between them and presses their lips together.

Benrey has never been kissed before. Sure, he’s smooched the cheeks of every member of the NeoScience Team (Extended Edition) (even including Forzen that one time, ugh) but he’d long ago accepted that by virtue of forever holding a flame for Gordon he was never gonna actually get to make out. Too bad, so sad, get good my good bitch.

So it takes a second for Benrey to process: Gordon’s hand curled into the hair at the nape of his neck, his nose pressed right up next to Benrey’s, the slow, warm slide of lips on lips.

His jaw drops open in shock. For a moment Gordon presses closer, opens his mouth against his, their lips dragging together with shocking, electric heat and Benrey is burning, burning, light-headed with disbelief and lack of air but before he can get his shit together and kiss back (you idiot, kiss him back, _kiss him back!_ ) Gordon is pulling away and leaving Benrey leaning closer, closer, and —

It’s only Gordon’s warm hand sliding down to firmly grasp the juncture between his neck and shoulder that has Benrey’s eyes fluttering open, dazed, as the words Gordon’s stammering start to penetrate. “Woah, Ben— Benrey do not, Benrey you’re gonna fall, _Benrey I can’t hold you up at this angle—_ ”

Benrey blinks repeatedly and comes back to earth enough to realize that he’s leaning way, way over the back of the couch. The only thing preventing him from toppling over it and landing directly in Gordon’s lap is Gordon himself, who looks equal parts flustered and concerned as he gives Benrey’s shoulder a little shake. Benrey catches himself, wills his body to stop chasing after Gordon’s lips, and just barely steadies on his own two feet.

“Are you — you’re back with us? Benrey? Ben? Are you okay? Was — was that okay?” Benrey stares at Gordon. The man’s face is flushed, his dark eyes big and warm and searching, and he’s looking at Benrey with an expression just a little bit like the one he’d had when they first saw each other on Xen but much, much sweeter. “...Benrey?”

“You,” Benrey says, strangled and high-pitched. “Uh, I.” The fire has consumed him, flames licking up and through his body even now, so hot that he half-believes the only things he’ll ever be able to say will burn him. “Gordon… Gordon Kissman?”

Gordon stares at him for a long second, eyebrows climbing, before he hunches over with a trembling snort of laughter. “What — you — Gordon _Kissman_?” he wheezes, and when he looks back up at Benrey his eyes are so bright and his smile so goofy and relieved that Benrey can’t help but mimic him, his own dopey grin stretching across his face. “You fucking — _Gordon Kissman_?”

Benrey swallows, still light-headed, his heart beating high and fast. Did that actually just happen? Is this for fucking real? “Yeah? Gordon kiss men?”

“Well, obviously,” Gordon snickers, but he’s got a blush high on his cheeks and a hand pressed to his face and when he looks up at Benrey the pleased glint in his eye is warm and real. But then his eyebrows raise; he lifts a hand between them, like he’s going to touch Benrey’s face, before pulling back to touch his own lips. His expression turns amused. “You, uh. You got a lil something there, buddy.”

“Huh?” Still dazed, Benrey lifts his hand to his own lips, brushes them, and comes away with a solitary piece of glitter stuck to the pad of his finger. “Wh…”

He looks back at Gordon. The man is trying to bite back his grin, cheeks flushed, with no sign anywhere of the glitter that had been stuck to his bottom lip.

It’s — it’s too much. Benrey’s human body had already been pumping blood and hormones through him without his permission, making him feel hot and bothered and stupidly, deliriously giddy — now the fire within him, banked so long with the understanding that Gordon would never like him and the ceaseless hope that maybe someday he would, comes spilling out of Benrey completely beyond his control.

The sweet voice is high and clear like a ringing bell, its color pink, pink, _pink:_ carnation, salmon, bright raspberry, rose, pouring out of him even as he slaps a hand to his mouth in a fruitless attempt to stem the flow. Here and there are other emotions: lazuli blue, glinting silver, lemon yellow, his fear and loyalty and love all on display in the gently floating motes of light that fill the brightening room.

It’s _embarrassing._ But when Benrey tries to hide his face against the back of the couch, Gordon laughs and tugs on the puff ball of his hat. “Benrey? Look, could you — can you look at me? Please?” Benrey hiccups around coral and magenta and peeks up at him, unable to refuse Gordon anything when he just — when _they_ just — 

Gordon smiles, bright and really, truly _fond._ “I was trying to tell you, man, before you distracted me—” he rolls his eyes, but the smile is still there, the affection, and as Gordon reaches forward to cup Benrey’s face in his hands Benrey thinks his heart might burst, his sweet voice might never stop, he might never be able to look at glitter the same way again — “for humans, it’s a tradition: at midnight on New Year’s Eve, you’re supposed to ring in the new year by kissing someone that you lo—”

“ _What,_ ” says a deep, rasping voice, “is going. _On._ ”

Gordon _yelps._ Benrey’s sweet voice climbs into an octave above human hearing before dropping and then rapidly screeching back up, shifting into harsher oranges and palest turquoise. He and Gordon reach for each other instinctively, ending up in a confusing collection of limbs halfway on the couch and halfway off; with a thrill, Benrey realizes that Gordon’s breath is a warm puff against the side of his neck even as they both try to escape the intimidating figure of —

“Muh— Mr. Coolatta,” Gordon says, voice strangled in a way that has Benrey biting his own lip, _hard,_ as a tremble goes through him. Beside him, Gordon’s body is shaking slightly. “We, I, we um—”

“Do you. Have _any…_ idea. What time it. Is,” the G-Man says, and in the bobbing lights of colorful sweet voice suspended throughout the room, the sparkly party hat still atop his head cheerfully and blithely twinkles away.

“S-sorry, we, we were just—” Gordon squeaks, and because Benrey can tell how much Gordon’s trying not to laugh he follows a stupid instinct and jabs his thumb into Gordon’s ribcage — a hysterical, high-pitched giggle escapes him, and he immediately whacks the back of Benrey’s head, mortified. “ _Benrey,_ you fucking — sorry, Mr. Coolatta, we —no, _no,_ do NOT—”

But the flame of Benrey’s feelings, so long a painful thing that burned to even consider, has settled into something warm and inviting. Gordon doesn’t think he’s bad, and Gordon kissed him, and Gordon reached for Benrey and holy fuck, he _kissed_ him, _Gordon Freeman_ kissed _Benrey_ on the fucking _lips_ and he said — he said —

“ _BENREY,_ ” Gordon protests, laughing helplessly against his attacks, and Benrey cackles and wraps his arms around him in something that is half-hug, half-tackle — “Benrey, BENREY, _don’t—!_ ” as they tumble over the back of the couch, over the cushions, and onto the floor with a mighty _THUD_ that shakes the whole house.

Benrey is vaguely aware of the G-Man saying, disappointed and a little annoyed, “So then you. Don’t, actually know what… time it is, hm?” but before Benrey can do anything besides laugh into Gordon’s chest Sunkist’s bark fills the room. He pauses in his attack on Gordon and they both look up to find a scowling Joshua framed in the doorway and dragging behind him a bleary-eyed Forzen.

“You sweet voiced too loud!” Josh scolds, tugging Forzen by the hand to the couch where he shoves him into a seated position. Forzen allows this to happen, looking with muddled interest at the bubbles of pink floating about the room. Joshie puts his little hands on his hips, glaring at Benrey and Gordon on the floor in an uncanny and adorable mirror of Gordon’s own behavior on early Saturday mornings. “You woke us up! Don’t you know what time it is?”

“O-oh, Sunkist probably knows!” Tommy calls as he sweeps into the room, a ruffled-looking Darnold at his side. “Why else would she, uh, would she…” Though Darnold continues right for the kitchen without him, at the sight of the sweet voice illuminating the room Tommy stops in his tracks.

“Do we want drinks?” Darnold calls, squinting into the fridge. “Unless there isn’t enough time?”

“What do those colors mean?” Forzen quietly asks Sunkist, who _boofs_ coyly and lays down beside Gordon and Benrey on the carpet. Joshua plops down next to her, still chiding his dad and being definitely more awake than a child should at this hour (whatever exactly that hour is). Forzen turns to Benrey. “Benrey, what do those colors mean?”

The front door slams open before anyone can say anything else. Bubby strides in, wet towel still around his shoulders, looking fresh and well-rested. “I’m tubed up, bitches, and ready for Round Two!” Coomer pops up behind him, closing the door with a chuckle.

“Hello, everyone! You gentlemen weren’t going to start the countdown without us, were you?”

“They can’t, Harold, why do you think I destroyed the television.”

“Ah, excellent thinking, Professor!”

“Well, there’s no mixed drinks I can make that are safe for human consumption,” Darnold sighs, collapsing onto the couch with a water bottle in hand. He looks very, very rumpled. “Unless you guys wanted to try Anti-Evil Orbitz, but that’s technically still in testing and we’re not sure if the side effects are lethal just yet.”

“Tommy,” Forzen says, twisting over the back of the couch as Tommy slowly steps into the room. “What do those colors mean?”

Bubby, still squabbling with Dr. Coomer, marches over to the couch and shoves at Forzen, who blinks down at him uncomprehendingly. Dr. Coomer obligingly picks Forzen up with his Extendo Arms and places him on the edge of the couch, making room for him and his husband to sink onto the cushions as well.

Josh is frowning at the glitching television, his dad apparently suitably told off. “How are we gonna do a countdown without a TV?”

“I have a direct link to Wikipedia (the free online encyclopedia that can no longer be edited ever again) _and_ the entire rest of the internet in my head,” Dr. Coomer whispers mischievously to him, and then announces to everyone: “For One PlayCoin I can share the Official New Year’s Eve Countdown to Midnight! Quickly, we’re running out of time!”

“I’ve got. One PlayCoin,” the G-Man intones as he lowers himself stiffly onto an arm of the couch. “Consider it… covered. A gift for the happy… hm. Couple.”

Forzen turns to him, still confused. “Yo, uh. Do _you_ know what these colors mean?”

“Ten!” Dr. Coomer announces merrily.

Tommy hefts himself over the back of the couch to land between Darnold and Dr. Coomer, his legs splayed over Darnold’s lap. At last, thoughtful, he looks away from the motes of pink sweet voice to meet Benrey’s gaze, just as Gordon pulls himself up into a sitting position. Gordon’s legs cross and he pulls Josh into his lap, mother-henning him, but he keeps the side of his body pressed up alongside Benrey’s; he even slides an arm behind him, trailing his warm palm along Benrey’s back and to his hip where it subtly tugs him closer.

“Nine!”

Silently, Tommy extends a fist. Benrey bumps his own fist against it. They look away from each other; they’ve got a lot to talk about, but that’s for later.

“Eight!”

“Benrey, what the fuck happened to you?” Bubby says, mystified and irritated about it. “Do you know you’re covered in glitter?”

“Seven!”

“Seriously, is anyone gonna tell me the colors? I swear I’ve been studying, I just forget—”

“Six!”

“Uh,” Benrey whispers. Gordon turns to him, eyes bright, free arm around his bouncing son. He looks happy. He looks, as always, beautiful. It occurs to Benrey that he’s not good at this — at talking, at using his words. But for Gordon? He really, really wants to.

“Five!”

He screws his courage to the sticking point, opens his mouth — and Gordon presses a finger to it, shushing him.

“Four!”

“Hey,” Gordon says, warm and a little nervous, as he pulls Benrey just a little closer. He slides his hand up his back, leaning in. “We’ll figure it out, okay?”

“Three!”

Benrey swallows. His eyes dart between Gordon’s, soaking in the honest and easy affection there. The flame within him crackles in satisfaction. Benrey nods.

“Two!”

Gordon beams, grin stretching his face as he leans farther in, nose brushing Benrey’s. “Good, because I have a very important question I need to ask you.”

“One!”

Smirk audible, proud as anything, Gordon whispers: “Wanna kiss?”

**Author's Note:**

> WARNINGS: minor alcohol use; sex lives are discussed but not in detail; talk of ResCas wretchedness and healing from it; a kiss w some description!
> 
> 1\. I PUT THEM ALL ON A COUCH. I MAKE MYSELF HAPPY, I PUT THEM ON A COUCH :D  
> 2\. my first impulse when posting stuff is always to apologize bc ohhh, it could have been better, pointless anxious research, i should have xyz, bla bla blaaah, but wtf! what’s the point o that! i made something from nothing bc it amused me, and if it amused u too then truly i have succeeded on this day!! may we all create recklessly and for the sake of joy in this new year, forever and ever, almond.  
> 3\. i’ve only written one kiss before and it was FUCKED UP, so this is a nice change of pace :D  
> 4\. they’re both so fckin stupid all over the place, but my fave is their “WE CAN’T LET OUR FRIEND’S DAD KNOW THAT HIS CHILD FUCKS” boys ur friend is 37. boys you’re supposed to be adults too. boys  
> 5\. minor breakdowns i had over this: how do i write a good kiss what the fuck. who the FUCK is gordon and am i doing it right. they kiss and say the word “fuck” in this should i mark it Mature. i like to write soft things set after these two’ve healed and talked some but man maybe i should make them meaner to each other. ok now who the FUCK is benrey and am i doing it right.  
> 6\. as always u can find me on tumblr at cartoonsaint where i use the tags on other people’s posts to marvel at how many emotions can be wrung out of me by a series that titty boob huge fuck
> 
> i hope this story finds you well. til next time!


End file.
